


Too Much To Bare

by soloistharold



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Infidelity, F/M, Insecurity, Kid Fic, Kinda, M/M, Pining, Temporarily Unrequited Love, one of them has a kid so i guess the tag counts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 10:44:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12274764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soloistharold/pseuds/soloistharold
Summary: "From where Harry was sitting, Louis’ face looked more angular, more mature. He found himself studying Louis’ features, from the way his hair fell against his forehead, to the prominence of his cheekbones, to the dip of his cupid’s bow, and finally, to the subtle curve of his small lips.He stared and stared and stared, noticing how his eyes crinkled every time he laughed at one of Chandler’s stupid jokes, watching the way his mouth moved when he smiled, feeling a slight yearning in his chest for more contact. He wanted to reach forward, maybe tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, press his lips against the warmth of Louis’ cheek… perhaps let them wander to the right a bit and capture Louis’ lips in a kiss.He wondered what Louis would do if Harry kissed him. Would he get mad and push him away? Or would he welcome it? Maybe bring a hand up to cup Harry’s cheek and use the other to stroke his hair.”ORHarry has been in love with Louis for as long as he can remember despite his many efforts to move on, until finally, in a last ditch attempt to put it all behind him, Harry pushes away everyone he loves.





	Too Much To Bare

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my wonderful artist and beta (@be-brave13 on tumblr and @be_brave13 on ao3), Kae, you really saved my ass here. [Here's](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OzL8yBCbgKc) a link to her lovely song, please check it out.  
> Also, thank you to the mods of the reverse bang for organizing this.
> 
> Title from the song "Superpower" by Beyoncé ft. Frank Ocean.
> 
> I don't own any of the characters bla bla bla.

MARCH 9TH, 2018. MANCHESTER.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” Harry said, a puff of smoke escaping from between his parted lips. He leaned heavily against the brick wall, watching as the moon rose higher and higher into the sky, illuminating him and the man standing in front of him, Louis. They had been best friends since they were mere toddlers playing in the sandbox, but today was the day that would all end.

“Do what?” Louis said as he turned to face Harry, his forehead wrinkled in bewilderment. With the light of the moon behind him, all Harry could see was his silhouette and a vague impression of the plains of his face.

“This. Our friendship. It’s too much.” Harry said. He felt his heart sinking more with every word. It broke his heart to do this. For so long he had been able to put aside his feelings for the sake of preserving their friendship, but now… well now it had become unhealthy. He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t do anything without Louis infiltrating his thoughts, and it needed to stop. He hadn’t been able to make it work with his long-term boyfriend because he couldn’t get over Louis. He had a serious job at a law firm, and responsibilities that he wouldn’t be able to carry out if he allowed this to continue any further.

“Harry, please, I don’t understand,” Louis implored him. “Have I done something? Do I really mean so little to you that you can just leave me like this?” Harry snorted. He almost wished that were the issue.

“I’m in love with you, Louis. I have been for as long as I can remember, but I can’t deal with just being your friend anymore. I’m sorry, but I have to do this. For myself.” With that he flicked his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with the toe of his boot. He let himself glance once more at the face of the man he loved, before turning away, determined to leave this all behind him and start anew.

11 YEARS EARLIER

Harry was thirteen when the thought first popped into his head that he might like boys. He wasn’t sure if that was allowed though, at least not where he lived. Sure, he had seen the occasional man on man kiss on the telly, but they always seemed to live these fabulous lives in these big cities and Harry lived in what felt like the middle of nowhere. The most interesting thing that had happened in ages in Harry’s neighborhood was when Mrs. Johnson, an elderly lady who lived a few blocks away, fell and broke her hip walking out of a Tesco’s. Surely he couldn’t be gay in a place like this; he’d be mocked mercilessly by his classmates.

He wasn’t even sure where he’d gotten the idea in the first place. Sure, he didn’t really want to kiss any of the girls in his year like all his classmates seemed to want to, nor did he like the idea of holding their hands or anything like that. They were pretty, he supposed, but he didn’t really feel anything for any of them. But when he watched football players on the telly with his step-dad, well. He certainly wouldn’t mind kissing them. But that didn’t mean anything though, did it?

He supposed he could just ask Louis about that. Louis always let him ask weird questions without laughing at him… well, that is, unless they were really stupid. God, Louis was the best. He was always so friendly and happy and everyone wanted to be his friend. Harry didn’t understand why Louis had chosen him to be best friends with, but he wasn’t going to complain.

He managed to put the thought out of his head until the next day while he was over at Louis’ watching Friends. Louis sat beside him, Harry’s legs drawn over Louis’ lap, his hands resting against Harry’s knees. He turned his head to look at Louis, watching the light of the TV reflecting off Louis’ face. From where Harry was sitting, Louis’ face looked more angular, more mature. He found himself studying Louis’ features, from the way his hair fell against his forehead, to the prominence of his cheekbones, to the dip of his cupid’s bow, and finally, to the subtle curve of his small lips.

He stared and stared and stared, noticing how his eyes crinkled every time he laughed at one of Chandler’s stupid jokes, watching the way his mouth moved when he smiled, feeling a slight yearning in his chest for more contact. He wanted to reach forward, maybe tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, press his lips against the warmth of Louis’ cheek… perhaps let them wander to the right a bit and capture Louis’ lips in a kiss.

He wondered what Louis would do if Harry kissed him. Would he get mad and push him away? Or would he welcome it? Maybe bring a hand up to cup Harry’s cheek and use the other to stroke his hair. Harry always liked it when Louis touched his hair; it made him feel loved and soft somehow. Louis would always call him his little cat, because every time Louis’ fingers reached up to bury themselves in Harry’s hair, Harry would push his head into Louis’ hands and urge him on. Louis swore he had purred once.

“Stop staring at me,” Louis muttered, not turning his face from the screen. Harry snapped out of it instantly.

“What – I wasn’t, I -” Harry spluttered, heat rising to his face. Oh god.

“Relax, I don’t mind you creeping out on me. Just be a love and pass me the coke, alright.” Louis answered, a small, slightly conceited smile on his face. He turned to look at Harry, but frowned upon noticing his panicked expression. “You alright mate?”

“Yeah, of course.” His heart was pounding, he was just being silly, he reasoned with himself. Surely Louis didn’t know what had just gone through his head. And anyhow, plenty of people must fantasize about kissing their best mates, right? It didn’t mean anything, did it? Just a passing thought, that’s all.  
It’s not like he wanted to be with Louis. He loved Louis, of course he did. But not like that. It’s not like he wanted to hold his hand or go on dates with him or kiss him until his lips were bruised, except ... except that’s exactly what he wanted.

He let his head thud against the armrest. He was fucked.

NINE YEARS EARLIER

It wasn’t until Harry was fifteen that he finally admitted to himself that he had a crush on Louis. It wasn’t like he’d been in denial so much as he just really really really hadn’t wanted it to be true. Louis had gotten himself a girlfriend, see. She was blonde and pretty and a bit annoying if Harry was being totally honest – of course that sentiment had anything to do with Harry’s own feelings for Louis – and all in all she was completely wrong for Louis. Not that Harry could say that of course. She was Louis’ first proper girlfriend, the first girl who he’d wanted to stick around for more than a few days, and he had been so excited about their first date that he had talked about her non-stop for a full week beforehand, which annoyed Harry to no end.

He wasn’t quite sure what to do; he hoped his crush would go away soon, the way all his crushes did, so he didn’t feel compelled to tell Louis, or anyone for that matter. The only issue was that it was Louis he had feelings for, not some random boy in his gym class. He spent all his time with Louis, or at least he had before Louis went and got a girlfriend. Now Louis spent most of his afternoons over at her place doing god knows what – something Harry didn’t care to dwell on. At least he’d been able to get over his previous crushes quite quickly because he never spent any real time with them after class, and the fantasy vanished as soon as one of them made a vaguely homophobic remark that made Harry want to run home and hide under his covers.

He thought he might try dating someone else to help him get over it. Problem was, there weren’t very many openly gay boys at his school, and he couldn’t very well go asking a random boy out in the hopes that he’d agree – that was sure to get him punched in the face. He wasn’t out yet for fuck’s sake. He couldn’t even bring himself to tell Louis yet for fear of his reaction. He didn’t think Louis would be homophobic – he had rolled his eyes at the other boys in their year over their bigoted comments enough times to reassure Harry of that – but he was worried that Louis would suddenly second guess every moment they’d spent together since childhood, every playdate, every hug, every sleepover where they’d shared a cramped little bed. He didn’t want Louis looking at him differently. No, Harry decided, telling Louis wouldn’t do.

He thought he was doing a pretty good job of keeping his feelings to himself. He forced himself not to stare at Louis, even when he was all disheveled and sweaty after footie practice or when he was all soft and cuddly before falling asleep, and he never let any touches linger for too long anymore, choosing to keep everything platonic, at least on the outside, to avoid any suspicion. It was a bit tough though, being the one to pull away first when in the past he had been the one to go in for the cuddle first. He could tell it confused Louis a bit given the hurt looks he shot Harry if he didn’t let Louis put his arm around Harry’s neck or rest a head on his shoulder while watching a movie together. It was worth it though; Louis never suspected that Harry had any feelings for him, and with time Harry was able to control himself more and more, until he didn’t have to second guess every touch, every glance.

The only thing he couldn’t control though, was his thoughts. When Harry lay in bed, his room shrouded in darkness, he found his thoughts wandering to Louis. What he wished he could say, what he wished he could do. He imagined what Louis would be like as a boyfriend. Sure, he had seen Louis out with Emily plenty of times, but he figured it might be different considering the duration of their friendship. Would he be gentler with Harry? Would he pepper Harry’s face with kisses before saying goodnight? Would he send good morning texts and wish him sweet dreams when he went to bed?

He felt silly for fantasizing like that. Judging from the way he had seen other boys behave, he wasn’t supposed to think like this, all dreamy and romantic. He was supposed to want to fuck as many people as he wanted, regardless of his relationship status. He was supposed to want to complain about his boyfriend, but what could he find to complain about Louis (barring his taste in girlfriends) when he was so perfect?

Everything came crashing down around Harry one night in late June. The three of them were over at Louis’ playing Mario Kart; Louis and Harry were sitting on the sofa and Emily, Louis’ girlfriend, was sat on the floor between Louis’ knees. Harry had managed to get through the evening with minimal bouts of jealousy; he had found himself clenching his jaw only a handful of times so far which, sadly enough, was progress.

“Babe, could you get me a drink?” Emily said suddenly, setting down her controler and tilting her head back to look at Louis. Harry raised his eyebrow. What was she playing at?

Louis made a disgruntled noise. “Can’t you get it yourself Em? I’m in the middle of a game here.” Louis said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“Louis!”

“Ugh fine.” Louis disentangled his legs from Emily and walked out of the room towards the kitchen on the opposite side of the house.

Emily turned to him the minute Louis was out of earshot. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What?” Harry said, his voice breaking.

“I see the way you look at him.” Oh.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry said, aiming for nonchalant. The slight quiver in his voice gave him away though, and Emily snorted.

“Oh please, you’re always staring at him when you think he isn’t looking. Plus I’ve seen the way you touch him, all gentle and hesitant, like you’re trying not to give yourself away or whatever.” She was a lot more observant than Harry had given her credit for.

“Emily I promise -”

“He always talks about you, you know,” Emily interrupted, turning to admire her nails. That was enough to stop Harry’s heart mid-pump.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

His face must’ve done something awful and revealing because Emily smirked and said “There it is.”

“I- what?”

“That stupid fucking look on your face when I said that. You gave yourself away.”

They both jumped at the distant sound of a cupboard falling shut. Louis must have been looking for food.

“Em, I don’t know what you think you know about any feelings I might have towards Louis, but I can assure you that you’re wrong.”

“Oh come off it Harry, let’s promise not to lie to each other, alright? We both know you’re in love with my boyfriend.”

Harry could feel his face draining of blood. All he could hope for was that she wouldn’t tell Louis. She seemed to sense this because then she said, “I won’t tell him if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Thanks,” Harry said. And then, “Why not?”

“I know you hate me Harry, but I don’t hate you. In fact, I pity you.”

“Pity me?” He said, taken aback. He knew she probably had plenty of reasons to do so, but hearing her say it was… weird.

She shrugged. “It can’t be easy being in love with your best friend. Especially when he’s with someone else. I get it, but get over it, yeah? Being hung up on someone who’ll never love you back isn’t good for you.” With that, she turned back around and pulled her phone out of her purse, tapping away as though nothing had happened, while two feet away Harry felt like his whole world was falling apart.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to grab one of the stupid fucking decorative pillows Louis’ sisters insisted on buying and throw it against the wall. He wanted to kick and scream and cry until the whole problem went away. But instead he sat in silence trying his hardest to ignore the faint prickle behind his eyes that threatened an uncontrollable barrage of tears.

“Here’s a coke for me lady,” Louis said as he re-entered the room moments later, weighed down with bags of crisps and three small bottles of coke. “And I’ve brought some crisps. I figure you’re going to need your strength for when I beat your arses at Mario Kart - Harry, what’s wrong?”

Harry sniffled and wiped at his nose. “Nothing. I’m fine, just got a bit of a belly ache. Think I’m gonna head home, need a lie down that’s all,” he said, refusing to meet Emily’s shrewd gaze.

“Oh, alright love. Well rest up and I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?” Louis said, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. Feeling overly self conscious in front of Emily, Harry pulled away quickly, letting Louis’ hand drop awkwardly to his side.

“Right, yeah. See you Monday.” With that Harry turned on his heel and left Louis’ house as fast as his feet could carry him.

-

Harry slept fitfully that night, slipping in and out of consciousness, his mind flitting between thoughts of Louis and an empty, dreamless sleep. Never had he been gladder that he didn’t dream, for he was certain his dreams that night would’ve been of anguish and misery and Emily with an arm wrapped around Louis, standing in front of Harry’s crumpled form, laughing as he broke apart.

FIVE YEARS EARLIER

It was well past midnight when Harry was woken by the sound of infrequent taps against his window, almost like someone was throwing something against it. Yawning loudly and throwing back his covers, Harry forced himself to get up and turn on the light. He walked over to his window and pushed it open, sticking his head out so he could see what was going on. Which of course meant he was hit in the head with a pebble.

“Ow!” Harry hissed. “Louis, what the fuck?” Louis didn’t answer, just shushed him and pointed at the front door. Disgruntled, Harry tiptoed downstairs and opened the door, ushering Louis inside. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, and he kept sniffling and rubbing his nose, a sure sign he’d been crying. Harry didn’t say anything, just wrapped his arm loosely around Louis’ shoulders and lead him upstairs, closing his bedroom door behind them gingerly.

“What happened Lou?” Harry asked, sitting at his desk chair. The hard plastic was uncomfortable and strangely cold for a warm August night. He switched his desk light on for something to do while he waited for Louis do say something. He was hovering by the door, no more than a hunched figure, looking little more than a small amalgam of skin and bones and sadness. Harry was beginning to worry.

“Lou, please. Talk to me.” He begged, his face scrunched up with concern. Louis took in a deep shuddering breath before wrapping his arms tightly around himself. His t-shirt hung loosely from his frame, his frown seemingly etched permanently into his skin.

“I had to say goodbye to me nan today.” Harry had nearly forgotten, it was his last night before heading off to uni.

“Oh, Lou, I’m so sorry. I’m sure you’ll see her soon though, it’s not like you’re going too far away right?” Harry said. He rubbed soothing circles against Louis’ back. It was uncharacteristically hot, and standing so close to Louis was making Harry start to sweat at the temples.

“It’s not just that,” Louis mumbled into his shoulder. “Emily broke up with me.”

“What, why? I thought you two were going to try to make it work.”

“So did I, but apparently she wanted time to ‘find herself’ or some bullshit and she couldn’t do that while having a boyfriend. Then she said that she didn’t want to be with someone who wasn’t completely invested in the relationship. What the fuck does that even mean? Of course I was fucking invested, I spent all my fucking time with her.”

“Aw, Lou I’m so sorry.” As much as he had prayed for them to break up, he had never wanted it to be like this. In his head, Louis broke up with her because he had finally realized it was Harry he’d wanted all along and they rode off into the sunset together. He knew that technically it wasn’t ‘realistic’ or whatever, but he didn’t really care.

“I’ll get over it,” Louis sniffed. “Can I stay here tonight?”

“Of course, whatever you need Lou. I’ve got you.”

“You know who I’ll miss most of all?” Louis said quietly, looking up at him with big watery eyes. Harry shook his head.

“You.” With that, Harry’s heart melted, seeping from his chest down to the tips of his toes. They settled into Harry’s bed a few minutes later. They were too big now for it to be comfortable, but Harry didn’t dare say anything that would make Louis move. Louis was curled up facing the wall as Harry was lying on his back staring up at the dark ceiling. They lay quietly, and Harry thought Louis had fallen asleep until he felt movement from the other side of the bed as Louis turned his head and whispered “Can you hold me?”

Harry turned and wrapped his left arm around Louis’ waist, letting his face rest halfway between Louis’ pillow and his own. He tried to keep some space between them, hoping Louis couldn’t feel the heavy thunk, thunk, thunk of Harry’s longing heart.

-

Harry lay awake hours later listening to the steady in and out of Louis’ breath as he slept. He was surprised when he received a text from Emily at half four in the morning. Careful not to jostle Louis, he disentangled himself from the sleeping figure next to him and reached over to grab his phone. The text was composed of only two words, but they were enough to fuel months’ worth of late night ruminations and restlessness as Harry tried to decipher their true meaning.

You’re welcome.

THREE YEARS EARLIER

For what was probably the millionth time in his life, Harry found himself staring at Louis. They were supposed to be watching old Game of Thrones reruns, but Harry was watching Louis. He couldn’t help himself; there was something about the curve of his cheekbones, the bright blue of his eyes, the mischievous tilt of his eyebrows that Harry couldn’t seem to look away from. He had to force himself to look away sometimes, on those days when Louis’ hair seemed to fall extra prettily against his forehead, or when his stubble accentuated his jaw just so. He wished he were better at controlling himself, but his eyes seemed to have a mind of their own.

He tore his eyes away only to see Eleanor watching him thoughtfully from her spot next to Louis.

Eleanor.

Perfect, sweet, clever, funny Eleanor with her long brown hair and pretty eyes and charming, outgoing personality that just meshed so well with Louis’. If Harry weren’t so in love with her boyfriend, he would adore her, but as it was he could barely stand her. She was that kind of person that you wanted to hate but could never fully bring yourself to because she never had anything bad to say about anyone, which only served to annoy Harry further.

That wasn’t the first time he’d been caught staring at Louis. Hell that wasn’t even the hundredth time. It felt like every person Harry had changed more than pleasant “hello’s” with had caught him at least once and had given him the exact same knowing look as Eleanor. It was only a matter of time before Louis caught on too, if he hadn’t already. Harry shuddered. What a horrifying thought.

Harry stood up and brushed off his jeans. Whenever he caught himself thinking about telling Louis he’d been in love with him for the past 8 years, Harry always took it as a cue that he was far too drunk or tired to be trusted around him.

Louis looked up from the screen and frowned. “Are you leaving? Already?”

Eleanor looked at him with an eyebrow raised. She knew far too much.

“Yeah, I’m knackered. Plus I’ve got to sit in on that big meeting tomorrow at work. Gotta sleep,” Harry muttered, ducking his head to avoid Eleanor’s eyes.

“Alright, well, get home safely love. Text me when you get there yeah?” Louis said, standing up to wrap his arms around Harry’s middle. Forgetting himself for a second, Harry allowed his eyes to fall shut and his chin to rest atop Louis’ head, enjoying the feeling of having his best friend so close. Eleanor let out a discreet cough behind Louis. Right. Louis was seeing someone who was decidedly not Harry. He wasn’t in love with Harry, he only saw him as a little brother. Life was fun.

Harry stepped away and coughed awkwardly into his fist before maneuvering himself around Louis to give El a swift peck on the cheek.

Once safely out of the building, Harry leaned against the dirty brick wall and put his head in his hands. He needed to get over this. Now.

Shakily he pulled his phone out of his back pocket and called his other best friend, Niall, from uni.

“Harry, what’s up?” said a gruff voice in reply.

“Remember what you said a few weeks ago? About setting me up with your mate? Well, I think I’m ready.”

-

Harry hadn’t been on a proper date in years, not since that fiasco with that girl from his photography class when he spilled his red wine down her white blouse, ending the date a whopping 20 minutes in. Sure, he’d flirted with a couple people - and hooked up with many more - but his general awkwardness prevented him from actively asking people out. Plus there was the whole still-in-love-with-his-childhood-best-friend issue that meant that Harry never tried very hard to have a connection with anybody in a romantic capacity.

He wiped his hands on his jeans as he waited nervously, checking his watch for the tenth time since he sat down. Niall, his ever so sneaky best friend, had mentioned a couple weeks ago that he had a friend he wanted to set Harry up with. Harry, having still been obsessing over Louis, hadn’t felt compelled to take Niall up on his offer. Why change things? Afterall, he had grown quite accustomed to being in love with Louis, depressingly enough, and saw no reason to change his behaviour. It wasn’t like he was going to find someone he liked more than Louis anyways, he’d reasoned with himself, so why bother?

At this point he reckoned he’d end up a spinster, or like the male equivalent of the crazy cat lady. That thought didn’t bother him anymore, he’d long since accepted it as his fate, when his last attempt at a normal adult relationship that went beyond the first date crashed and burned within three weeks of its conception. Since then he had relegated himself to meaningless hookups in club bathrooms, never letting anything move past exchanging names and promises to call that neither party ever intended to keep.

It wasn’t until that incident at Louis’, when Harry realized just how much Eleanor knew, that he knew he had to at least look like he was moving on. Based off Niall’s description of the man, Harry’s date was artistic and beautiful, both of which were qualities Harry appreciated immensely. At most, Harry expected a pleasant meal and promises to stay friends after the date was over.

“You must be Harry. I’m Zayn, pleased to meet you.” Harry nearly choked his own spit. In front of Harry stood one of the most beautiful men he’d ever seen. He stood 5’7” with long black hair, chiseled cheekbones, long eyelashes that touched the tops of his cheeks when he blinked, and a smile so mouthwatering Harry was slightly aroused. Well, Harry thought, if anybody could help him move on from Louis, it was Zayn.

-

Two and a half hours later, Harry left the restaurant with a slight spring in his step and Zayn’s number saved on his phone. It had gone far better than expected; they had bonded over their love of music and Niall in that order, and had agreed to meet up for drinks next week.

No sooner had Harry opened the door to his musty one bedroom, than his phone rang with an incoming call from Niall.

“So?” said Niall in lieu of hello. Harry rolled his eyes as he kicked his shoes off by the door and peeled off his socks, throwing them in the general direction of his bedroom door.

“Hi Niall, nice to hear from you. I’m doing fine by the way,” Harry said exasperatedly. He unbuttoned his shirt, letting it hang open by his sides, cool air kissing his chest and hardening all four of his nipples. Louis insisted that the only reasonable explanation for Harry having an extra set of nipples was that he must’ve absorbed his twin in the womb, the nipples serving as the only proof that the twin had ever existed.

“Right, yeah, hi. So how was the date?” Niall asked eagerly. He was far more invested in Harry’s love life than he ought to be. Then again, he’d practically been begging Harry to get over Louis and move the fuck on since they met three years ago during the first week of uni, when Niall had gotten so drunk Harry had had to fling him over his shoulder and carry him back to his dorm room to sleep it off.

Harry had to fight off the smile that threatened to spill into his voice when he answered with a simple “alright.”

“Is that so? ‘Cos Zayn just texted me to tell me he thought it went great.”

“Oh?” Harry said, trying to stay nonchalant. He was glad Niall wasn’t there to see the big fat smile on his face. He tugged on his lower lip, trying to get his face under control. He wasn’t a fourteen year old girl, he needed to stop acting like one.

“Harry, this is so great. This could be it!” Niall exclaimed, his voice full of excitement. “You’d make beautiful babies. Not that that’s physically possible. But if it were…”

“Niall, cool it. It was one good date, no need to start planning the future just yet.” Harry said, for once trying to be the voice of reason.

“Fuck off, let me be excited,” Niall said. “But honestly, did you like him? Could you see this going somewhere?”

Harry hesitated for a moment. He had enjoyed spending time with Zayn, and wouldn’t mind seeing him again. But in what capacity? Did he want to try something more? See what was there? He certainly wanted to kiss him - fuck him if he was lucky enough - but in Harry’s experience that didn’t equate to feelings and certainly not to a relationship.

Could he see himself waking up every morning with Zayn, chatting whilst Harry made coffee? Could he see them moving in together some day, getting a dog, going out to flea markets on the weekends to find new things to decorate their place with? Most importantly, could he envision introducing Zayn to his parents someday soon?

Perhaps it was too soon to be thinking of all this, especially considering Harry was mostly just looking for someone to take his mind off Louis, and perhaps it was just Harry reacting prematurely to the date going well, but he found himself thinking yes. Yes he could see this fledgling of a relationship turning into something more.

“Yes. Yes I could see it turning into something more.” Niall’s resulting shriek was so loud, Harry had to hold his phone away from his ear.

-

“Happy New Years babe,” Harry said, leaning forward to give Zayn a peck on the cheek. Six months had passed since their first date. Zayn was sweet and kind and attentive, everything Harry had ever wanted in a boyfriend. They weren’t perfect by any means; Zayn was prone to moodiness and Harry knew he could be standoffish when he needed space, and they both sucked at communicating, but somehow they managed to work.

Did Harry feel a spark every time Zayn kissed him, the way he did whenever Louis so much as brushed past him? No, but Zayn made him feel safe and comfortable and warm, and what more could he ask for really?

Despite himself, Harry found his eye wandering to where Louis and Eleanor were stood, locked in a passionate kiss, just a few feet away. He felt that familiar pang of jealousy in his chest, though thankfully Harry’s frequent feelings of jealousy had dulled to a faint ache rather than a knife through the heart. He tore his eyes away, searching for Niall and his new girlfriend across the crowd of people gathered at Louis’ for his annual New Year’s party. It used to be a Harry-and-Louis tradition, but once Eleanor arrived in the picture, well, Harry supposed it was understandable that he had been shoved aside in favor of the girl Louis had been chasing since his first week of uni.

That didn’t make him any less bitter about it though. He fought to keep his face neutral as he watched Niall laugh, one arm slung across his girlfriend’s shoulders, the other by his side nursing a bottle of beer. Niall leaned in to give his girlfriend a kiss on the cheek. Harry watched as she giggled and burrowed further under Niall’s arm. They looked happy.

Zayn, noticing Harry’s attention was elsewhere, let out a discreet cough. Harry turned to look at him, watching the way fireworks cast lights across his face. The the colors morphed from green to blue to red, illuminating his skin and reflecting in his eyes, making him even more beautiful than before. Harry reached his out his hand, dragging his fingertips along the planes of Zayn’s face. Zayn gave him a small smile, his eyes full of adoration.

“I love you,” Zayn said quietly, his eyes searching Harry’s as he waited for a response. Harry gulped, his heart pounding in his chest as the seconds ticked by, letting his fingers falls from Zayn’s face. Out of the corner of his eye he could still see Louis and Eleanor, arms wrapped around each other as they watched the fireworks.

He forced himself to ignore them. This was his chance to move on. He reached both hands up to cup Zayn’s jaw and kissed him, trying to concentrate all his feelings into this one kiss, wishing he could convey everything he wanted to say in their embrace. He pulled away, breathing laboured, as he allowed a smile to tug at the corner of his lips.

“I love you too.”

TWO YEARS AGO

“So Zayn told me he loved me last week,” Harry said, letting his finger trail along a row of dusty books. The small apartment was filled with the sound of clinking cutlery as Nick, an old friend from uni, prepared them cups of tea. He often sought refuge at Nick’s apartment; Harry found his quick wit strangely comforting.

He was bundled up in a nondescript black hoodie and a green Packers beanie, pulled down to cover the tops of his ears. His hair was long and ratty; he was long overdue for a trim. The cold January air seeped through the cracks beneath the doors and through the glass of the windows, chilling them both to the bone. Harry couldn’t see himself but he knew his nose and the tips of his ears were pink. He bunched his hands into the sleeves of his hoodie, then sniffled and curled his toes in the fuzzy socks Nick loaned him, trying to resist the urge to jump in place to try to bring warmth back to his body.

“He did what?” Nick squawked, stopping in his tracks, managing to slosh hot tea onto his hands as he made his way towards Harry. “Ow, fuck.”

“Yeah. We were at Louis and El’s New Years Party and he told me he loved me.” Harry shrugged, before grabbing his tea from Nick’s hand.

“Shit. What did you say?” Nick asked, settling on the sofa and pulling a ratty blanket over his legs.

“I said I love him too. Didn’t really know what else to do.” Harry shrugged again. In the two weeks since it happened, Harry had gone back and forth over what to think of the whole incident. He’d never told anyone but family members that he loved them, and even then he did it sparingly, only when it really mattered. Did he care for Zayn? Absolutely, but he knew he didn’t feel anything close to what he felt for Louis, for Zayn. He hated himself for it. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He had this beautiful, sweet man who loved him, and all he could muster up were feelings of fondness and lust.

“Harry,” Nick said reprovingly. “Should you really be telling someone that you love them if you don’t?”

Harry huffed, plopping down next to Nick and unfolding his blanket to cover the two of them. “No.”

“So what’re you going to do about it? Clearly he’s way more invested in this than you are.”

“I know. But I don’t want to end it. I really do care for him, I just -”

“You still love Louis,” Nick said. There was no question in Nick’s words, only truth. Harry’s answering silence said it all.

“You need to get over that, love, it’s obviously not gonna go anywhere. You might as well give it a shot with Zayn,” Nick said when Harry remained silent. Harry frowned.

“I am giving it a shot. I could’ve broken up with him, couldn’t I? Or I could’ve just not let it go past that first date,” he said indignantly. It’s not like he wasn’t trying to get over Louis, it’s just that that seemed to be an impossible task.

“Well you’re not trying hard enough babe,” Nick said.

“Yes I am! I’m trying really hard, why would you say that?” Harry said indignantly.

“You think that just ‘cos you have a boyfriend now people aren’t still noticing how you stare at Louis, or how you talk about him all the time even when he isn’t there?” Nick said, an eyebrow raised. Harry grunted. He was far too observant for Harry’s liking.

Harry said nothing. He didn’t talk about Louis that much did he? Surely if he did, Zayn would have said something to him already.

“Well Zayn hasn’t said anything about it so maybe it’s not as bad as you’re saying.”

Nick just snorted. “Oh Harry, you naive little boy. Of course Zayn has noticed. Why do you think he doesn’t like Louis?”

Which… oh. Zayn and Louis had never gotten along. He figured it was because Zayn was so quiet he often came across as aloof, and Louis was loud and in your face about everything, but thinking back on it, Zayn had made faces at the mere mention of Louis, even before they’d met. Fuck, maybe he really was oblivious.

“Do you think Zayn knows I’m in love with Louis?” Harry asked, his voice rising in panic. Zayn absolutely could not know.

“Don’t think so, not yet at least. But you’ve got to get yourself under control. It’s only a matter of time before he figures it out.”

“Nick, help me,” Harry whined, letting his head fall against the back of the sofa.

“Look, Harry, I don’t mean to be rude or whatever, but why are you even still into him?”

“Who? Louis?”

“Yeah, it’s not like he’s ever given you any indication that he’s into you like that, and he treats you like a little brother, plus he ditches you every time he gets into a new relationship. It’s not like he’s ever really given you a reason to like him. I just don’t… get it,” Nick said, turning to watch Harry. Harry was certain his hurt was written all over his face, because Nick then rushed to retract what he said. “Look at me being all insensitive. God, Harry, I’m so sorry.” Harry dismissed him with a slight wave of his hand.

“I - I don’t know, alright.” Harry sighed. “He’s just so... so... lovely.”

“Lovely?” Nick said incredulously. “Did you just call Louis Tomlinson lovely? Christ kid, you’re a real goner aren’t you.”

“I can’t explain it, alright? He’s just so funny and kind and -” Harry stopped at the dubious expression on Nick’s face. “He’s kind to me, alright? He’s always protected me. I was bullied a lot as a kid for being kind of weird or whatever, but Louis always stood up for me.”

“That’s great Harry, but that doesn’t mean you have to be in love with him.”

“I know that. I just am. He makes everything better, he like, makes me feel better about myself when I’m around him, even when he’s making fun of me.”

“He makes you feel better about yourself?”

“Yeah. It’s like I don’t hate myself quite as much when he’s around.”

“Why on earth would you hate yourself?” Nick said. He furrowed his brow, face etched with concern.

“I mean I don’t hate myself, it’s more like a strong dislike,” Harry chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “I guess I’m just too shy and awkward and I’m not funny and -”

“Oh stop it. You’re none of those things,” he said reassuringly, wrapping his free arm around Harry’s shoulders and pulling him into a hug. “Now, what about Zayn?”

“What about him?” Harry said, avoiding Nick’s eyes. Despite the cold, he felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore.

“Well, is it really a good idea? Seems like you need some time to work on yourself or whatever.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at him and snorted. It was unlike Nick to spew all this self-help book bullshit.

“God, look at me, giving relationship advice and shit. I feel like a proper grown up now,” he said, shaking his head. “Next we’ll be talking about mortgages or something.”

Harry laughed half-heartedly. He longed to go home and burrow under his covers and forget this conversation ever happened. He wished he could will his problems away, maybe buy a cheap plane ticket to Australia and never turn back. He wished his life were a movie and he could start over somewhere fresh with no repercussions. Ultimately, he wished he weren’t in love with Louis. Instead he said, “I want to try and make things work with Zayn.”

“You do you love, just make sure you don’t hurt him while you’re trying to get over Louis. I don’t know much about the guy, but I know he doesn’t deserve that.”

Harry nodded.

“Alright, that’s enough relationship talk for me for one night. Wanna watch Clueless?”

“I guess, yeah.” Harry nodded. They settled down to watch the movie, but Harry’s mind kept wandering to his situation with Zayn. He knew he had to do something to get Louis and Zayn to be… friendly at the very least. It would take a real miracle to make them actual friends. Harry didn’t think he could handle any more awkwardness between the three of them. He knew he acted strange when he hung out with the two of them at the same time; it was hard to be around his boyfriend and the man he had not-so-secretly been in love with for the past however many years, and Harry, being as socially awkward as he was, didn’t tend to handle it very well.

What he needed to do was come up with a plan; something that would allow Zayn and Louis to participate in each other’s lives in a way that would allow each to see different sides of the other. Harry figured that maybe if they knew a bit more about one another, they’d find more to talk about when Harry forced them to spend time together. Not for the first time, Harry wished his life wasn’t so damn complicated.

-

He didn’t see Louis for another week. In an effort to make friends - and after a chat with Harry about making more of an effort to be nice to Louis - Zayn had invited Eleanor and Louis out to this bar he was supposed to be singing at.

They arrived early so Zayn had extra time to set up, depositing Harry at a table near the small stage before wandering off. Harry sat in silence, one hand wrapped around a cold beer and the other drumming mindlessly on the table while he waited for Louis and Eleanor to arrive. In an attempt to look less lonely and awkward, he pulled out his phone and opened the Candy Crush app. Thankfully he was spared from having to be that guy playing fucking Candy Crush alone at a bar by the arrival of Louis, tugging El behind him as they picked their way around the mess of chairs and tables.

“Hey mate, how are ya?” Louis asked, wrapping Harry in a hug and kissing him briefly on the cheek. Harry tried his hardest not to blush. He failed. Thankfully the dim lights of the bar hid the flush of his cheeks as he got up to hug Eleanor. Since he’d started dating Zayn, his interactions with Eleanor had become a lot less strained, for which he was eternally grateful.

“‘M alright thanks. How about you?” Harry asked, choosing to stare down into his glass rather than look at Louis. He was determined to act normal tonight.

“Yeah, I’m doing good. I’m starting me job as a student teacher in a couple weeks so I’ve been preparing for that,” Louis said. “So, he’s a singer, eh?”

Louis was about as big a fan of Zayn as Zayn was of him, that is to say, not at all. He was the kind of person who would hate anybody who hated him first on principle alone. Not that Zayn hated him. Or that Louis hated him. It was more like… distrust, and protectiveness towards Harry that outwardly manifested itself into hatred. Harry would be flattered, except it was just another reminder that Louis only saw him as a little brother who needed to be protected.

“Yeah. Well, he’s working as the artistic director for this magazine, but yeah he sings whenever he can,” Harry said. They fell into a heavy silence, punctuated by the clinking beer bottles of the other bar-goers surrounding them.

He didn’t know when things had started becoming awkward between him and Louis. If he had to pin a date to it, he’d say it had started around the end of October, only a couple months after he had started dating Zayn, and only a few weeks after he’d introduced Zayn and Louis. They’d been at a party at Louis’ place and Harry had entered the kitchen to get a refill, only to see them staring at each other, arms crossed, faces set in a scowl. When Louis caught sight of Harry, he stormed past, pausing only to hiss in Harry’s ear: “your boyfriend’s a twat.” Confused, Harry had tried to ask Zayn what happened, but he’d only shook his head. “Louis is a blind fucking idiot,” he’d said, his voice laced with bitterness and a hint of something Harry couldn’t quite detect.

They’d left soon after at Zayn’s demand, and Harry had spent the brief ride home lost on what to do. It had been nearly two weeks before Harry heard from Louis again, despite the dozens of messages he’d sent trying to discern what happened after Zayn’s staunch refusal to give an explanation beyond “It was nothing, just a stupid disagreement.” They made up again after Harry showed up at his apartment unannounced, with a large bag of Cheetos and a promise to stop badgering him about it, but their conversations were stilted and Louis seemed more detached. Whereas the old Louis would have brought Harry in for a big hug and a kiss on the cheek without hesitation, this new, distant Louis didn’t dare venture farther than a bro-y backslap for a greeting.

He was hurt to say the least, but at the end of the day it made his job of acting like he hadn’t been nursing a humongous crush on his best friend for the past thousand years a whole lot easier. Also, it wasn’t like he hadn’t done the exact same thing to Louis years ago in an attempt to distance himself and get over his crush. Fat load of good that had done.

A hush settled over the bar and Harry was pulled out of his thoughts as Zayn jumped on stage and grabbed the microphone. Never one to speak in public, he forewent an introduction and gestured to the band to start the song. Within moments the bar was filled with his beautiful, crooning voice, everyone silent as they watched him, starry eyed and mouths agape. Zayn closed his eyes as he sang, allowing the light that was trained on the stage to cast shadows on his face, making him impossibly more beautiful. Harry knew that even if Zayn’s voice weren’t as captivating as it was, all eyes would still be on him; such was the power of Zayn’s face.

Despite himself, Harry found himself looking away, the annoying, self-destructive part of his brain urging him to look at Louis. Much to his surprise, Louis was already looking at him. Though he couldn’t see much of his eyes in the dimness of the bar, Harry could tell they were dark; wide round pupils surrounded by only a sliver of the brilliant, captivating blue Harry had long ago come to love.

Although Louis’ arm was wrapped loosely around Eleanor’s bare shoulders, he wasn’t pressed to her back, peppering sweet kisses up and down her neck like he usually did when he thought no one was watching. He wasn’t playing with her hair or wrapping his arms around her waist and hooking his head around her shoulders, pressing himself as close to her as possible. He wasn’t trying to touch El in as many ways he could while staying PG. Something almost seemed off between them, judging by the tense lines of Eleanor’s bare shoulders. No, Louis was hardly paying Eleanor any attention. He was staring at Harry, the music long-since forgotten and his beer rapidly. He licked his lips then, and Harry wanted to die, his heart aching with longing for the man sat before him.

Harry felt a nearly imperceptible shift in the air between them; he didn’t know what and he didn’t know why, but something changed between them that night.

Zayn sang the final notes of his song and the bar broke into raucous applause, waking Harry and Louis from the intensity of their gaze. For just a moment, it had felt like they were the only two people in the room. The air between them was heavy, but this time, rather than being filled with awkwardness, it was filled with all the words they needed to say to each other but couldn’t. In that moment, Harry didn’t have a doubt in his mind that Louis knew what Harry really felt for him.

For the first time since he’d fallen in love with Louis, just for a moment, Harry thought that he saw the faintest glimmer of hope in Louis’ unrelenting stare, that maybe Louis returned his feelings, but the sentiment passed as quickly as it came, as Louis came to and wrapped his arm more firmly around Eleanor’s shoulders, clapping with the rest of the public for a song he hadn’t heard. Harry’s heart fell again, settling into the pit of his stomach where it had taken residence for the past nine years, since this whole ordeal began.

Harry couldn’t bear to look at him again for the rest of the night, determined to focus on Zayn and his beautiful singing like the supportive boyfriend he was supposed to be. He stared straight ahead, eyes fixating on the shadow Zayn’s eyelashes cast on his cheeks, intent on ignoring the set of eyes burning a hole in his skull, pleading him to look over.

His mind was trying to play tricks on him, he decided. It was trying to convince him that Louis felt more than he really did, and Harry wasn’t about to fall for all this nonsense, not again. He wouldn’t let himself be consumed by thoughts of Louis and all the does-he-like-me bullshit of his adolescence. If that meant having to avoid Louis’ eyes wherever they went, well so be it. Harry could look away, Harry had to look away, for his own sanity if nothing else.

Months passed, and he could tell Louis was hurt by Harry’s newly imposed detachment, but Harry pretended to stop caring. They rarely exchanged more than basic pleasantries, and he ignored their friends’ questioning eyes and changed the subject whenever they tried to bring up the rift between him and Louis. He was doing better, or so he told himself.

From an outsider’s point of view, they would’ve seemed like nothing more than acquaintances. But an outsider wouldn’t have been able to see the fervency with which Harry’s heart continued to long for Louis even as their friendship fizzled out much like the way a Coke loses its bubbles. Onlookers wouldn’t be able to detect the the way Harry’s skin burned every time Louis brushed against him, or detect the litany of desperate calls inside Harry’s head urging him to just talk to Louis in the scowl that seemed to be permanently etched onto his pale face. Harry thought he was doing an excellent job at keeping his feelings hidden.

He threw himself into his relationship with Zayn with new resolve, being as attentive as ever and even bringing him back home to meet his parents. They adored him, as Harry knew they would, and their approval only spurred Harry on.

It wasn’t until mid-June of that year that it occurred to Harry to take the next step.

At a small Italian restaurant not too far from Zayn’s office, Harry asked Zayn to move in with him, presenting him with a brand new key to his apartment. Zayn accepted immediately, a huge smile on his face and full to the brim with ideas of how to decorate their future apartment. Harry had long ago learned to ignore the feeble protestations of his desolate heart. He was happy with Zayn, he told himself. This was right, this was good. This was what everyone felt with their partners. This was how life was supposed to go.

His friendship with Louis was in shambles, but hadn’t that been what he needed to move on all along? Distance from Louis so he could mend his heart piece by piece with the love and care of someone else?

It wasn’t until a desperate 2 a.m. call from Louis that they were able to rekindle their friendship. Eleanor was pregnant.

ONE YEAR AGO

Emma Louise Tomlinson-Calder was born on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, weighing a healthy six pounds and eight ounces. She had bright blue eyes like her father and a pointed chin like her mother and cheeks so round she looked like a doll. Harry absolutely adored her.

Though he was loathe to admit it, Harry had been less than thrilled to receive that call from Louis. He had known that Louis wanted kids someday, and he’d known that Louis was serious about settling down with Eleanor sometime soon, yet it had still come as an awful surprise when Louis informed him, with a tremor in his voice, that Eleanor was pregnant and they were keeping the child. Harry couldn’t remember the last time Louis had sounded so small, so unsure. He’d spent that night in tears, his face in his trembling hands as he sat huddled in a corner of his bathroom, back against the door, half frozen but not caring in the slightest. He’d shown up to work the next morning, face still splotchy and eyes nearly swollen shut with the weight of his tears - and upon seeing him, his boss ordered him home to take a “personal day.” He’d counted his blessings that Zayn hadn’t moved in yet; having a virtual meltdown over his childhood best friend having a child would have been tough to explain.

It’s not that Harry wasn’t happy for them - in his own twisted way he’d always looked forward to Louis having children he could dote on - but he had expected a lot more time to prepare, something like a wedding and an announcement that they were officially “trying” to have a child. He hadn’t expected this; not a hushed conversation with Louis at 2 a.m., not the desperation in his tone as he explained that he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone yet but he couldn’t keep it in any longer and certainly not his panicked little voice nearly frightening Harry as he delivered the news. Louis later admitted he’d held out exactly an hour before caving and calling Harry. That was a feeling Harry would never forget, that strange mixture of anxiety and defeat and grudging elation when his best friend told him he was going to be a father.

Pretending that he didn’t know until Eleanor and Louis made the official announcement had been one of the hardest things Harry had ever done - and probably the only time he’d ever managed to keep a secret in his life - as all he’d wanted to do was quit his job so he could be at Eleanor’s beck and call. Zayn told him he was acting crazy, but it wasn’t until the announcement that Zayn had finally understood; Harry loved babies.

He would later deny it, but Harry had cried the day Louis asked him to be the godfather. It’s not like he hadn’t seen it coming; they’d been lifelong best friends after all, and Louis knew how much Harry loved babies, but he was still touched that they trusted Harry with their child. In return, Harry threw himself into helping them get prepared, from running errands and cooking whatever Eleanor wanted to satisfy her cravings to convincing Zayn (after promising many a blowjob in gratitude) to help paint and decorate the nursery room in their new house.

And despite all this, it hadn’t actually hit Harry that Louis was having an actual child until the first time he held her, trying to stop his shoulders from shaking as he sobbed. He held her tiny body close to his chest and made a silent vow to do whatever he could to make her happy. Zayn watched from the sidelines, leaning against the door frame of Eleanor’s hospital room, his arms crossed and a reluctant smile on his face. Harry had begged him to come along, knowing he wouldn’t have been able to bear sitting in the waiting room all alone while Eleanor was in labor. Zayn had held his hand, soothing him when he got antsy and smiling at him when he got nervous. Harry felt a pang in his chest as he held Emma, the result of a deep rooted desire for a child mixed with the knowledge that it would be a long while before he had one, if he ever got so lucky. Harry looked at Louis, and they smiled softly at each other as their eyes met. For the first time in a long time, Harry felt overwhelmingly happy.

ONE MONTH AGO

Harry had been more than a little reluctant when Louis demanded they all go on a lad’s holiday. Louis had been feeling worn out lately and had suggested that they - along with Zayn, Niall and Liam - head up to Harry’s dad’s bungalow for a weekend. Normally, Harry would have enjoyed a lads trip, but the thought of having Zayn and Louis spend a weekend together in close proximity was enough to make his stomach hurt with dread.

Things with Zayn had been more than a little weird lately, with all the time Harry had been spending at Louis’ as of late, and Harry had the nagging feeling that Zayn was starting to suspect the true nature of his feelings for Louis, so the thought of going on a trip with both of them was… more than a little unpleasant. Whenever Harry got home from spending time at Louis’, Zayn would act moodier and more detached than usual, or would start asking all sorts of questions about what they had done. Zayn never seemed to be satisfied with Harry’s answers, clearly expecting him to own up to whatever he imagined they got up to when Zayn wasn’t there. Obviously nothing ever happened, but Harry couldn’t quash the feelings of guilt that bubbled up every time Louis was mentioned.

The more time Harry spent at Louis’, the moodier and more detached Zayn got. Not wanting to deal with Zayn’s tirelessly irritating mood swings, Harry found himself staying later and later, making Zayn jealous and suspicious in the process. They fought tirelessly, with Zayn yelling at Harry for never being around, and Harry yelling back that he was allowed to spend time with his goddaughter. Harry knew Zayn wasn’t a jealous creature by nature, which served to make Harry all the more guilty, but he couldn’t bring himself to change his behaviour. He loved spending time with Emma and Louis, he saw it as a chance to wind down after a stressful day at work. He enjoyed the time they spent sprawled on the carpet reading her picture books that were really more picture than book and taking her for walks in her stroller when she got fussy. Some might’ve thought it strange that a 24 year old man enjoyed spending so much time with an infant, but to Harry it felt perfectly natural.

Nevertheless, despite all their problems, Harry knew he loved Zayn. Maybe it wasn’t the overwhelming, all-consuming kind of love he felt for Louis, but it was sweet and gentle in a way Harry never thought he’d get to experience. It was like puppy love, something he felt he’d been deprived of in his adolescence, when he had been too busy pining over Louis to pay even a sliver of attention to anyone else for longer than it took to get off. He was glad to have Zayn, even if they frustrated each other to no end. It was nice to have someone to come home to, someone to count on. He wasn’t happy per se, but he was content with where his life was for the time being.

He was worried about bringing up the trip though. He knew Zayn wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea, especially considering it had been Louis who had brought it up (they never were able to get over what happened that day in the kitchen). He put it off and put it off, until the trip was mere days away and he couldn’t postpone the inevitable any longer. He stepped into their tiny kitchen where Zayn was making himself a sandwich, and wrapped his arms around Zayn’s waist, burying his nose in Zayn’s neck. His cologne smelled of something musky and warm; Harry had always found comfort in his scent.

They were rarely this affectionate without cause, so Zayn turned to him, eyebrows raised and asked “What do you want?” His tone was expectant, like he didn’t think Harry would act like this if he didn’t want anything. That stung a little, and Harry wrinkled his nose.

“Nothing,” he murmured, pressing his lips once, twice, three times to a patch of skin behind Zayn’s ear, relishing Zayn’s minute sigh of pleasure as he felt the warm pressure of Harry’s lips against his neck.

“Harry.”

He sighed and moved his face back a bit so his words wouldn’t be muffled. “So Louis suggested that -”

“Oh great. What could he possibly want now? You’re over there so often you’re like Emma’s third parent,” Zayn said, annoyance clouding his tone.

“I’m her godfather Zayn, if something ever happens to Louis and El then yeah, I’ll have to step in. Sorry for wanting to spend time with her!” Harry said.

“Fine. What did he suggest?” Zayn sighed. He turned to lean back against the counter, crossing his arms and hooking one foot over another and looking at Harry expectantly. Harry hesitated.

“He wanted us all to go on a trip over the weekend. You know just the lads,” Harry said shrugging.

“The lads as in who?”

“Oh, you know. You, me, him, Niall and Liam. The lads.”

“Why? He hates me.”

“Louis doesn’t hate you. At least I don’t think he does. He’s never said that he does, though I suppose it’s possible. Maybe if you told me what happened that day in the kitchen…” Harry trailed off, raising his eyebrows hopefully. He still had no clue what had gone down that day, and his curiosity had grown exponentially every time one of them refused to clue him in.

“For fuck’s sake Harry. Let it go,” Zayn said, eyes rolling as he turned back around to finish preparing his food.

“But why won’t you tell me? Do you not trust me? Did one of you say something horrible? Please Zayn. He’s my best friend, I ought to know,” Harry pleaded. He knew he should let it go, but he couldn’t help himself. Maybe if he knew what had happened then he could fix it and they could be friends. He knew they could get along great if they stopped being such stubborn arses and actually tried to be friends.

“Harry!” Zayn warned, his voice sharp. Harry could see the way the muscles in his back tightened. He reached a hand out to try to soothe him before thinking better of it and letting his hand drop.

“Fine, fine. I’ll let it go,” Harry huffed. He hated when Zayn spoke to him like that; it made him feel a little bit like he was being scolded by his mum. “I guess I’ll take that as a no to the trip then.”

Zayn let out a long sigh, letting his body relax as he turned to face Harry again. “It’s not a no. It’s just that we never get to spend time together anymore. You’re always busy working and then you go straight to Louis’. All we ever do these days is fight and have sex. I want to spend actual time with you, but it feels like you never want to.”

Harry’s heart fell. He never wanted Zayn to feel like that. He stepped forward hesitantly to wrap his arms around Zayn. “I just want to spend time with Emma, Zayn. You know that. She’s my goddaughter.”

“I know. I don’t know why I’m acting like this, all jealous and shit. I hate it.” Zayn turned his head and pressed a chaste kiss against Harry’s jaw. “So when is this trip anyway?”

“This weekend?” Harry said. Zayn huffed.

“Fine. Tell Louis we’ll be there.”

“Thanks babe,” Harry whispered. He leaned forward to kiss Zayn gratefully.

-

The days leading up to the lad’s trip passed quickly, and as time passed Harry’s anxiety grew. Would Zayn and Louis try to get along? How uncomfortable would it be for Harry trying to navigate between the two? He couldn’t very well ignore one of them to spend time with the other. He hoped the other boys would mediate if, god forbid, it ever became necessary to pull them apart.

For some reason, Harry felt like this trip would be a turning point in his relationships with both Zayn and Louis. It was stressful trying to manage a boyfriend and a best friend who hated each other, and he knew that keeping things the way they were wasn’t sustainable. This trip was a way to force them to spend time together, and maybe getting them to interact in a relaxed environment would allow them to finally see what Harry saw in both of them. Maybe then, if they finally got along, Harry wouldn’t have to feel so guilty all the time; guilty when he spent time with Zayn because he was spending less time with his best friend, and guilty when he was at Louis’ because he knew it made Zayn uncomfortable and insecure.

What he needed to do was try to spend more time with Zayn, so Zayn wouldn’t feel so threatened by Louis, which is why, in an attempt to keep everything between him and Zayn flowing smoothly, he’d cut back the time he’d spent with Emma and Louis. They hadn’t fought in a week, which was a huge accomplishment for them, and Harry intended on keeping it that way. So of course, since nothing could ever go right in Harry’s life, Zayn and Louis had to argue before they’d even set off for the bungalow.

Harry and Zayn had been the first to arrive at the meeting point, aka Louis’ house, and were transferring their backpacks to Louis’ car.

“Malik,” Louis had said curtly. Harry sighed. If this was the most civil interaction to come out of this trip, they were in for a long weekend.

“Tomlinson,” Zayn answered, matching Louis’ tone. They could’ve just left it at that and ignored each other the rest of the weekend, but no. Harry’s life had to be a shitshow.

“Why the fuck did you bring two backpacks? We’re gonna be there like two nights.”

“What’s it even matter?” Zayn said sharply. He turned to stare at Louis challengingly. It was a sign of how bad things were between them that it took something so minor to set them both off.

“Fuck bro, just asking. No need to get so fucking defensive! Shit,” Louis said. His eyes narrowed into little slits as they stared at each other, silently daring one another to provoke a fight.

“Oh look, I just got a text from Niall,” Harry said in a weak attempt to diffuse the tension. “He says he’s on his way and he’ll be here in five.”

“I’m not getting defensive,” Zayn retorted, definitely being defensive. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket. He lit it and took a long drag, tilting his head to blow smoke upwards and away from Harry. “You’re the one trying to start shit.”

“I just made a comment. You were just looking for an excuse to get mad,” Louis said. His arms were crossed, but it seemed his whole body was tensed and ready for a fight.

“Why would I try to pick a fight with you? I like you much better when you don’t talk.” Zayn snarked, taking another drag from his cigarette.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe ‘cause you’re mad that your boyfriend spends more time with me than with you,” Louis sneered. Zayn’s eyes darkened and the corner of his lip curled. Harry’s heart pounded; this couldn’t possibly end well.

“Hey guys, maybe we should head inside while we wait for Liam,” Harry suggested. Though his tone was cheery, he felt anything but.

“Shut up Harry,” Louis snapped, refusing to break eye contact with Zayn.

“Don’t talk to him like that,” Zayn snarled, taking a step forward. “You know perfectly well why I don’t like you Tomlinson.”

Louis pretended to hum thoughtfully before frowning. “Oh, I know. Is it because you’re jealous that he prefers my company to yours? Or that he’d rather spend time playing with a fucking baby than be stuck at home with you?”

Zayn laughed, high and cruel. “Do you really want me to get into it?” He said. His voice was low and dangerous. It scared Harry; he had seen Zayn angry before, but he’d never seen him being cruel.

Desperate to divert the conversation literally anywhere else, Harry stepped between them, putting his hands on Louis’ chest, imploring him to stop. It was too late though - Louis was all riled up, and very few things could stop Louis when he got going. He shoved Harry aside, and Harry being the clumsy fool he was, stumbled and nearly fell onto the curb.

“Don’t you dare put your hands on him,” Zayn shouted. He took a menacing step forward and for a split second Harry was worried he was going to punch Louis, but thankfully, Liam arrived just in time to pull Louis away and into the house. Harry stayed by the car trying to calm Zayn down, and Niall arrived shortly thereafter, doing his best to lighten Zayn’s mood. It was another half an hour before both parties were calm enough to get in the car.

-

They all suffered through the car ride in tense silence. Niall and Liam put on music to try to fill the tense silence in the car, but then it was just awkward with music instead of awkward without it. Harry spent the whole ride glaring out of the window, refusing to talk to Zayn despite his whispered pleas to forgive him. He didn’t know who he was angrier at; Zayn for starting the fight or Louis for provoking him. Either way he was fuming.

As soon as they arrived Harry stormed off into the bungalow, leaving the others to deal with bringing the bags inside, determined to put as much space between himself and the others as possible. He heard someone walking behind him, and assuming it was either Zayn or Louis, he was about to tell them to fuck off, but upon seeing it was just Liam he let himself calm down.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said glumly.

“You wanna go for a walk?” Liam suggested. Harry nodded. Liam led him out of the sliding glass doors in the living room and through the small garden. They walked in silence for a few minutes until they were out of sight of the bungalow, following a narrow path that lead into a small forest. Before long, Liam turned to him and asked, “So what happened back there?”

“They’re both being fucking twats. This was supposed to be a trip so everyone could unwind and now they’ve gone and made everything awkward.” Harry kicked at the ground, sending a small rock skirting along the leaf-covered path.

“What were they fighting about?”

“I’m not even sure. It started as something really stupid and then it got weird and I couldn’t understand what they were referring to.”

“What were they saying?” Harry sighed heavily and scratched at his forehead. Harry could think of dozens of people he’d rather discuss this with than Liam, but he’d take what he could get.

“Louis kept saying that Zayn was mad that I spend so much time at his place playing with Emma, and then Zayn said that Louis knew exactly why he hated him.”

“Do you know why he hates Louis?”

“Not really. I mean, they argued at this party one time a few weeks after I introduced Zayn to everyone, but they both refused to tell me what they said. They’ve hated each other ever since.”

“It’s strange that they never told you. I thought Louis told you everything.”

Harry shrugged. “He used to. I guess not so much anymore. Anyhow, Zayn has been weird about me spending so much time there, and I keep telling him there’s nothing to worry about, that I’m just there to play with Emma, but he doesn’t seem to trust me.”

“You sure? Maybe it’s Louis that he doesn’t trust.”

“Well him too. I just don’t get it. I’m so tired all the time because of it. And I get why Zayn gets anxious about it, but I don’t like it.”

“Have you given him a reason to be anxious?”

“No! I’ve never done anything behind his back. I would never do that,” Harry insisted.

“And you’ve never thought about it either?” Liam said, raising an eyebrow.

“I… umm… oh fuck it.” Harry let out a long breath and gave in. Everyone knew at this point anyway, there was no point in hiding it anymore. “You know I’ve had a crush on Louis for a while now, right?”

“A crush?” Liam said, lifting an eyebrow knowingly. Harry rolled his eyes. God he was irritating.

“Fine, I’m in love with him. Happy?” Harry responded, trying and failing to keep the irritation out of his voice. Talking to Liam made him want to slam his own head into a wall repeatedly.

“Extremely. Go on.”

“Well, I’ve been trying really hard to move on, and I thought it was going alright. Things were moving forward with Zayn, and I figured once Emma was born I’d finally be able to move past it once and for all, but since I’ve been spending so much time over at Louis’ lately with him and Emma, and it’s just made all those feelings bubble up again. It made me remember how much I want all that - you know, a family - with him, and it’s hurting me more than ever.”

“Oh, Harry,” Liam said, his voice sympathetic. He put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and gave him a small, sad smile. Harry tried not to scowl, he hated pity, even though he knew Liam was only trying to be nice. “Do you think Louis wants to be with you?”

Harry just looked at him incredulously. What planet did he live on? Jesus fucking Christ. “No,” Harry said slowly. “Of course he doesn’t. Why would he? He’s perfect in every fucking way and I’m a sad, pathetic mess. I’m too boring for him, and he just sees me as a little brother, and I guess now as the godfather of his child. No Liam, there’s not a chance Louis wants that.”

Liam hummed in response. “Don’t say that about yourself. I know we’ve never been the best of mates, but I think you’re marvelous.”

Harry snorted. Yeah right, Liam had shown nothing but disinterest in Harry since the moment they’d met. “Please, all I do is drag him, and everything else, down. There’s no way I’m worthy of being with him.”

"You're like the clouds to Louis’ sun - they’re more humble in their beauty, but they’re what make the sun noticed,” Liam said, looking off into the distance, his chest puffing up the way it tended to do every time he tried to say something deep and insightful.

Harry just stared at him, his eyebrows raised in poorly concealed bewilderment. “Liam, what the actual fuck are you on about?”

Liam blushed and stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. “You know, you bring out the best in him. You calm him down and make him more tolerable. Like a better version of himself. I know what Louis is like when you’re not around and he’s a fucking nightmare.”

“You mean I make him boring? You think I like stifle him or something?” Harry said. Great. He brought Louis down, just what he needed to hear.

“No, no, of course not. I mean, it’s like he tries to become a nicer person when he’s around you. It doesn’t seem like he tries to be the center of attention the whole goddamn time because when you’re around it’s only really your attention he’s after. You allow Louis to be his real self, I think.”

Which... what was that? Now Harry knew for a fact that Liam was being ridiculous.

“Yeah right, whatever mate.”

As though sensing Harry’s melancholy, Liam attempted to steer the conversation in a slightly different direction. “So what’re you going to do about it then? You can’t continue as you are; all that’ll do is make everyone around you miserable. And it isn’t fair to Zayn.”

Harry hated it when Liam made sense. “I don’t know,” Harry said dejectedly and hung his head. “I think I might need some time alone. Be single y’know. You’re right, it isn’t fair. I love him, I really do. It’s just not the same - no matter how hard I try I can’t force myself to love him as much as I love Louis, no matter how much I wish I did.”

Liam gave him a sympathetic smile. “That’s alright, you can’t help who you love. What are you going to do about Louis?”

“I -” Harry thought for a moment,. “I think I might have to do what I did before and take a little break from him. Try to distance myself or whatever.”

“How so?” Liam said, scrunching his face in confusion. Harry always thought Liam looked a bit like a bewildered puppy when he did that.

“I think I need to stop being friends with Louis for a while, at least until I can sort myself out. I need some time to myself. No boyfriend, no Louis, just me. Maybe then I’ll finally be able to move on.”

Liam frowned. “Is that really the best course of action though? That’ll really hurt Louis. Emma too. And Eleanor I suppose. They’ve all come to rely on you.”

“I know. But, like, I can’t go on as I am. It’s self destructive and I really just need this to stop, it hurts so much all the time and I feel guilty for feeling that ‘cos of Zayn. My head is this huge mess and half the time I can barely think straight. Maybe if I clear my head or something I’ll get better. I’m just not happy the way I am now. Like, I’ll feel flashes of happiness when I’m over at Louis’, playing with Emma and all that, but then I’ll look over at Louis and remember how much I want him and how much I can’t have him and then I remember Zayn waiting for me at home and it fucking breaks my heart ‘cos I’m doing it to myself.”

Liam just nodded as though he understood and accepted Harry. For some reason that prompted a wave of relief to wash over Harry. “You can’t help it Harry. Do what you feel is best alright. Be selfish and do what you need to do. Might I suggest that you explain it all to Louis, though. The least you could do is tell him why you need time away.”

“You mean tell Louis I love him? Have you gone mad? I absolutely under no circumstances can do that, are you fucking kidding me?” Just when Harry thought Liam was starting to make some sense.

“You’ve been best friends for years and you’ve lied to him all this time. I mean it’s understandable but still, he deserves at least a sliver of honesty from you.” As much as Harry hated it, he knew Liam was right. Stupid Liam, why couldn’t he go back to being oblivious like he usually was? Harry scuffed the toe of his boot against the ground, kicking a cloud of dirt into the air around their feet.

“I hate you for making sense,” Harry grumbled. They shared a small smile. Even if this turned out to be terrible advice, Harry knew he would always be grateful for Liam. Then Liam slapped him on the back way too hard for his liking and Harry grunted. Stupid fucking muscles.

They returned to the bungalow not long after, Harry’s heart heavy with the knowledge of what he had to do. He tried much harder to act normal though, trying to cherish his swiftly dwindling time with these boys, not knowing when he’d be with all of them like this again. He leaned against a wall in the living room, watching as Zayn interacted with the other boys, almost sad to see how much he’d come out of his shell around them, because he knew it wouldn’t last long. Zayn could hold his own when it was only him and another person, but he tended to get more reserved around groups of four or more people. Zayn and Louis seemed to have calmed down and were acting civilly, which was the most Harry could hope for. As much as it broke his heart, he knew it was time to end it with Zayn. Liam was right; he couldn’t pretend any longer.

Next he looked at Niall, the way happiness seemed to radiate out of every inch of his small body. He used to envy Niall before they’d really gotten to know each other, before Harry learned of all the insecurities that plagued him, buried miles beneath his skin. Everyone seemed to think that Niall hadn’t a care in the world, but Harry knew better. He knew that Niall worried more than anyone, saw more than anyone. Harry would always admire the way he was able to make himself comfortable in any situation, even when Niall’s insecurities begged him to run.

His attention then turned to Liam: kind, sweet, dopey Liam. Their talk that afternoon had surprised him; Harry hadn’t known how observant he really was when he wanted to be. Though it rarely seemed to be directed towards him, Liam was truly the kindest and gentlest of people. Despite their many differences, Harry knew Liam was one of the few good ones out there. If things had turned out differently maybe they could’ve been proper friends. He felt a surge of fondness for the man and his lips quirked up in a wistful smile.

Finally, Harry turned to Louis. He was curled up on the sofa looking truly relaxed - something that was hard to come by with a new father - eyes crinkled in a radiant smile, sandwiched between Niall and Liam on the couch. Their eyes met briefly and Louis’ smile widened before turning back to Liam to continue their conversation. Harry knew deep down he’d never truly get over Louis. The best he could hope for was that he could bury his feelings, lock them in an airtight box and store them in the deepest, darkest corner of his heart never to resurface.

Harry wished things could turn out differently, that he wasn’t so broken and he could continue his friendship with Louis without feeling like someone was chiseling off pieces of his heart every time Louis’ eyes met his. Once he might’ve felt sadness like a knife plunging deep into his chest, but he had long since learned to suppress his feelings. His longing now manifested itself in the form of a throbbing ache that radiated from his chest throughout his whole body, like a scar permanently etched into every crevice of his body.

Harry found comfort in the thought that there might be another Harry out there in some distant universe, one who wasn’t constantly caught in the throes of his heart, one who managed to have a functional relationship with someone he actually loved. Maybe this other Harry didn’t spend all his spare time thinking of all the ways he was fucked up. Maybe this other Harry was with his Louis.

TWO HOURS AGO

Louis can we meet up? We need to talk.

Harry had sent that text an hour ago. It had taken him nearly half an hour to work up the courage to send it, palms sweating as he paced around his cramped living room. It had only been two weeks since he had broken up with Zayn. To Harry’s immense relief, their relationship had ended surprisingly amicably. No sooner had Harry uttered the words “we need to end this,” than Zayn had nodded and given him a small, sad smile. He hadn’t seemed all that surprised - Harry figured that Zayn probably would’ve ended it if Harry hadn’t done it first. Then he spoke the words that, at the time, had shaken him to his very core: “It’s because of Louis isn’t it?”

When reflecting on it later, Harry figured he shouldn’t have been so shocked; it’s not like their problems stemmed from anywhere other than Louis, and Harry’s blatant inability to stay away from him for long stretches of time.

“What do you mean?” Harry had answered. He had hoped they could’ve made it through this without mentioning Louis for once; this was one subject he had no interest in broaching. Zayn just pursed his lips. “You’re in love with him aren’t you? You always have been.”

“I- Zayn-” Harry had spluttered, utterly lost on how to proceed.

“Relax. I figured as much. I knew you weren’t all in. You always seemed… distracted.”

“Zayn, please -” Harry started, but then reconsidered. Honesty. That’s what Liam had said; it was finally time to be honest. “I’m so sorry. I tried so hard to get over him. I wanted so badly to love you like you deserve. I just couldn’t do it.”

Zayn nodded again, before walking over to give Harry a brief hug. “I understand. Do I wish you weren’t in love with your best friend? Yeah, but there’s nothing I can do about that.” Zayn set about gathering a few of his things, promising to come back for the rest of his stuff when he found a more permanent residence. He had rejected Harry’s offer to stay at the apartment while Harry looked for somewhere else, saying that he’d rather have a fresh start. He turned to Harry before he left their apartment for good. “Did you ever love me?” Zayn asked in a small voice, blinking sadly at Harry as he waited for his answer.

“Of course I did. I still do. It just -”

“It wasn’t enough.” He left Harry standing by the door, his shoulders slumped as he wrecked the only real relationship he’d ever had. He cried for an hour, curled up on the couch watching cheesy rom-coms, they were his only comfort. He couldn’t turn to Louis; he’d just ask why they’d broken up. Niall was as much Zayn’s friend as he was Harry’s, and he didn’t think it would be fair to try to monopolize Niall’s time while he mourned a relationship he himself had ended. As much as Harry had appreciated his talk with Liam, he didn’t think they were in a place where Harry could turn to him for comfort and advice whenever. And Nick… well Harry wasn’t sure he felt comfortable complaining about his breakup to Nick when Nick was complaining about being perpetually single. No, Harry had to sort through this alone. He figured he’d be spending a lot of time alone in the coming weeks, this was as good a practice as any.

He had allowed himself a week to mourn before deciding it was time to move on. He had spent the last week psyching himself up, trying to decide what to say to Louis and how to say it. He knew he had to make it brief; no point in dragging something like this out. It would only make him sadder and he had no intention to cry. With all the anxiety he had taken up smoking, something which he wasn’t all too proud of. It relaxed him though, which was hard to come by these days.

He received a response from Louis exactly forty-five seconds later. Sure mate. Everything alright?

I’ll explain later. Harry had responded. They agreed to meet at Louis’, and Harry spent the entire bus ride over tapping his fingers nervously against his thighs. He had a little speech planned in his head, about how he was so sorry but he needed time to be himself and why he had broken things off with Zayn, but as he got closer to Louis’ he started to panic. Was he really about to do this? Did he really need to end his friendship with Louis?

He got off the bus with shaking feet, his breaths getting more labored with every step he took towards Louis’ house. He wished the short walk from Louis’ place to the bus stop was longer; it felt like only seconds until he was there, knocking on the door with a trembling fist.

“Haz!” Louis greeted him, throwing open the door. He had a huge smile on his face, which dropped as soon as he saw Harry. Harry knew he must look a proper wreck, but he pushed past Louis into the house anyway, determined to put this all behind him. “You alright? You look pale.”

Harry’s heart lurched at the concern in Louis’ voice. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah of course mate. What’s wrong?”

“In private. Outside maybe?”

Louis nodded, confusion etched into every line on his face. He lead the way through the living room, pushing open the sliding glass door and stepping outside. He turned to look at Harry expectantly. Harry wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs, but that did nothing to stifle the anxiety.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” Harry asked. He could tell his voice sounded off; it was too high pitched to sound normal. Louis gestured for him to go ahead.

“So what’s up Harry. You’re beginning to scare me a little.” Louis chuckled nervously. “Did something happen?”

“Look, Louis -” Harry began as he lit his cigarette. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Okay… out with it already. The anticipation is killing me,” Louis joked, trying in vain to lighten the mood. Harry took a deep breath, trying to steady his pounding heart. He felt like there was an enormous timer, ticking down the last moments before he ruined his friendship with Louis forever.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

\--

It only took ten minutes to end his friendship with Louis. Eleven long years down the drain with only a few words spoken. Harry left Louis’ apartment, ignoring Eleanor’s inquisitive gaze as he walked past, not even stopping to kiss Emma goodbye. He knew he had to make this a clean break; if he stopped to say goodbye to Emma he knew he’d break down and beg Louis to forgive him and take him back as a friend. He ignored Emma’s baby babble, presumably calling for his attention in the only way she could.

He didn’t know what he had expected to feel. Lighter, perhaps? Like he was actually moving forward with his life? He had thought he actually had good reasons for doing what he just did, but with each step he took away from the house, those reasons felt less and less justifiable. His heart felt heavier with each passing second, and he was certain that if he were in a lake, he would sink to the bottom and drown in the misery of his thoughts.

APRIL  2018. MANCHESTER.

It had been six weeks since Harry broke off his friendship with Louis, and he hadn’t received a single text from him. Not one. He supposed he couldn’t be too mad about that, Harry had been the one to end the friendship after all, and he couldn’t very well expect Louis to be the first one to reach out. But still, he had expected _something._ He didn’t know what to do with this silence. Louis didn’t do silence. When he was mad he got loud and in your face about it; when he was confused he let you know. Harry didn’t know what this meant.

Niall had called him a fucking idiot for breaking it off with Zayn _and_ Louis within a few weeks of each other. “You fucking idiot, you cut off your main support system in the span of two weeks? Who does that?” He had said. Harry could only nod in agreement. It had been stupid of him. He’d tried to ask Niall about how Zayn was doing, but Niall flat out refused to get involved.

The only problem was that he was lonely. He had anticipated this, but anticipating it and feeling it were completely different beasts, as Harry had come to notice. He missed having someone to come home to. He missed visiting Emma and Louis after work. Mostly, he missed laughing with Louis. He had this way of making him feel better about himself that Harry had never experienced with anyone before. And of course now, when he needed cheering up the most, Louis wasn’t there to comfort him.

He left work late, hunching his back against the unseasonably cold April air. He walked swiftly to the bus stop, not wanting to dawdle as he saw storm clouds forming in the air above him. Thankfully it was a short ride, so he stopped off at a local kiosk to pick up a _Lipton Ice Tea_ and a packet of _Haribo Gold-Bears_. His earbuds were in, making him completely oblivious to the world around him. It wasn’t until he heard a loud “Hey arsehole!” behind him that he stopped, pulling out a bud and looking around in bewilderment. He had been alone, or so he thought, so he knew it was directed at him.

Finally he saw him, a small figure in a black _Adidas_ jumper storming angrily towards him. Louis. Harry’s breath hitched in his throat at the sight of him. He looked good, if a bit tired under the eyes.

“I’ve been thinking a lot these past few weeks and I’m fucking furious with you.”

“Louis -”

“No. I get to talk now. You didn’t let me say anything before so now it’s my turn, fuckface.” Harry was taken aback. No matter how angry Louis got at him - which was never that often to be honest - Louis had never spoken to him like this, with so much _anger_.

“Could we at least do this inside? My apartment is only a couple blocks from here -”

“I know where your fucking apartment is, you twat. No, we’re doing this right here,” Louis insisted. Harry swallowed, mentally bracing himself for a fight.

What he didn’t expect was for Louis to surge forward, knocking Harry’s drink out of his hand in his rush to move closer. He kissed Harry furiously for a moment, their lips pressing together firmly for a few seconds before Louis pulled back, panting.

“Fuck you.” Louis said simply, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “How _dare_ you say something like that to me and then not stick around to listen to what I had to say. I’ve never felt so dismissed in my life. It’s like my thoughts, my feelings didn’t even matter to you. Did you know that El and I were broken up?” Harry’s eyes widened. He’d had no idea. Louis had never mentioned anything about them having problems, so he’d just assumed everything was as perfect as always. “Yeah. We broke up. You know why? She didn’t like that you were always over. She said that she appreciated the help but it was getting to be too much. Then she told me she knew you’d had a thing for me for a while now, but she never thought I had reciprocated your feelings until then. I thought that was strange, but it wasn’t the first time someone had said that to me, that I fancied you.”

Harry frowned. “Who -”

“Zayn. Yeah, you remember the time at that party when we fought? The one you’ve been pestering us about for years now? Yeah. He came up to me and told me he knew you fancied me and he wanted me to back off. I told him he was a fucking arsehole. I mean how _dare_ he try to threaten me off my best mate, right? Then he said he knew that I fancied you, which took me completely by surprise. I laughed in his face and called him a paranoid idiot. I’d always thought of you like a brother, see. Someone who I needed to look after. He told me I could deny it all I wanted but he could see the truth. Perceptive little twat that Zayn is.” Louis smiled wryly.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me then, though,” Harry said. He was still utterly confused but his heart was pounding a mile a minute and he felt kind of nauseous.

“I would’ve done so, but the more I thought about it the more I realized that the fucker had a point. I hadn’t gotten it before that night, but I’d always hated seeing you get off with these random losers who didn’t give two shits about you. At the time I’d put it down to me wanting to see you happy with someone, but then that someone came, and I was still upset. He treated you well, he made you laugh, and he was, let’s face it, super fucking hot. And that night it hit me: I was jealous.” Harry felt his breath hitch in his throat. Could it be? It felt like his heart had taken residence in the back of his throat.

“I obviously couldn’t tell you about what we had said lest you started suspecting that what Zayn said was true. I wasn’t anywhere near ready to accept that I liked you. I thought it might’ve been a passing fancy or whatever. It wasn’t until that stupid show you made us go to, I don’t know if you remember? Zayn sang at some bar; you were trying to make us get along or something. Anyhow, it wasn’t until that night that I truly started to like you. I didn’t quite recognize it at first. Thought I was going crazy or something, but I couldn’t stop staring at you.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, coughing into his fist as the word got jammed in his throat. “Yeah, I remember. That was horrible for me actually. I thought my mind was playing games on me. I couldn’t understand why you were looking at me so much. I figured I must’ve looked really weird that night or summat.”

“No, you were beautiful. It just took me a while to accept what I felt. Part of it was that I wasn’t certain you actually liked me back, despite what everyone said. And yes, pretty much everyone who knows us has told me at some point that they thought you fancied me. I used to brush it off though, and it wasn’t until that night that I thought maybe they were on to something. That thought went away pretty quickly, though, when you left with Zayn without saying another word to me the rest of the night and practically stopped talking to me until El got pregnant. It hurt more than I’d like to admit when you announced you and Zayn were moving in together. I’d never really thought it was all that serious between you two until then. And then El got pregnant and I had to be there for her so I shoved all my feelings aside so I could focus on being a good father to Emma. For a while there I thought I had gotten over it, but then once Emma was born you were suddenly there all the time, and I was reminded of why I liked you in the first place.” Louis smiled softly. Harry’s heart felt ready to burst. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing; he half expected to be woken from a dream at any moment.

“You were so _gentle_ with her. So... loving. I realized I wanted a family with you. But despite all the time you spent together you stayed with Zayn. I figured if you really liked me like everyone kept saying, you would’ve dumped him. Didn’t think you were the type to stay with someone for the sake of having a boyfriend. So I hid it and hid it and hid it and convinced myself yet again that it was nothing, just a stupid crush I’d get over the next time you told one of your stupid fucking jokes.

“And then six weeks ago you came over all nervous and shit, talking about how you loved me and that’s why you had to stop being my friend, and I realized how blind I had been. How oblivious.” Louis was smiling widely now, though he wrung his hands nervously as he spoke. Harry had no idea why he’d be nervous, but he was endlessly endeared.

“Lou -”

“No, no. Let me finish. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this,” Louis said impatiently, flapping his hands. “Now where was I? Ah yes. I’m fucking oblivious. So yeah, basically I had no idea I made you feel like that. You didn’t say all that much but I could tell I was hurting you. I hated that, Harry. So much. I wish you had said something earlier, but I guess I get why you didn’t.” He took Harry’s hands in his, but not before snatching his packet of Haribo and chucking them aside. “So Harry. My dear, sweet, stupid, wonderful Harry. In case this wasn’t already crystal clear, I love you too.”

With that, their lips met in a kiss so tender Harry thought he had imagined it. Louis’ breath fluttered against Harry’s lips as he pulled away moments later. Harry closed his eyes, hardly daring to believe his fortune, convinced that when he opened them again Louis would be gone.

“I can’t believe… after so long,” Harry whispered, pressing their foreheads together, their breath mingling in the small space between them. Louis reached up to caress his face and they laughed into each other’s mouths, giddy and in love.

SIX MONTHS LATER

Harry woke to his face being peppered with kisses. He opened his eyes blearily, blinking rapidly as he tried to adjust his eyes to the light streaming in through the window.

“Good morning babe,” Louis said, his voice raspy with sleep. He was hovering over Harry, his arms bracketing Harry’s body as he leaned down to press kisses against Harry’s cheeks and down his neck. Harry giggled as Louis’ stubble tickled his neck, turning his head to avoid the barrage of kisses headed his way.

“Morning Lou,” Harry answered, unable to keep the smile off his face. Although he couldn’t see himself, he knew every ounce of love and admiration he felt for Louis was written all over his face. His eyes were crinkled in happiness and his dimples were out, mostly to appease Louis. He pulled his arms out from under the duvet to wrap them loosely around Louis’ neck.

“Do you know what day it is today?” Louis asked him, quirking a brow as he looked down at Harry.

“No… should I?” Harry responded, his voice deep and slow, still struggling not to close his eyes and fall back asleep.

“Oh how you offend me, young Harold,” Louis gasped in mock offense. “I would’ve thought that since you’ve been obsessed with me since we were children that you’d be able to remember our six month anniversary.”

“Happy six months babe.” Harry’s smile was slow and sweet and he leaned up to get another kiss from Louis, but he was rebuffed as Louis pulled away, pouting. “You want me to make it up to you? I can bring you breakfast in bed if you’d like? I’ll make anything you want.”

Louis nodded his head enthusiastically and sat back on his haunches to let Harry get up. “I want bacon and eggs and juice and coffee and something sweet but I don’t know what yet,” Louis demanded, rubbing his hands together greedily. Harry shook his head fondly as he stood up, stretching and yawning before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Thanks babe,” Louis called after him as he left the room.

Harry reappeared half an hour later, laden down with a tray full of food for Louis. He placed it gingerly next to Louis, who lay against a mountain of pillows with one arm behind his head as he scrolled through his phone.

“Ah, _finally_. Thought you’d died out there or something,” Louis said cheekily. “Thanks babe.”

Harry sat next to Louis on their bed, trying his hardest not to disturb the tray, watching as Louis munched on some bacon.

“What?” Louis asked, slightly self-conscious as he chewed.

“Nothing,” Harry said, smiling slightly.

“Harry,” Louis whined, his mouth full of food. Harry wrinkled his nose. “You know I hate it when you do that.

“Do what?”

“Stare at me and then say nothing when I ask you why you’re looking at me so much. Makes me feel like you’re keeping something from me,” Louis said petulantly. Harry didn’t answer for a minute, enjoying the way Louis’ small bottom lip stuck out in a pout.

“I’m very fond of you,” Harry said softly, just as Louis looked like he was about to get genuinely upset. Louis smiled shyly and ducked his head.

“I’m very fond of you too, Haz,” he mumbled before taking a huge gulp of orange juice.

Harry watched as Louis finished eating, preferring to watch the way he scarfed down his eggs than go back to the kitchen to fetch his own food. When Louis was full, he set the tray full of empty dishes on the floor next to his side of the bed and lay down, letting out a huge sigh of satisfaction. Harry lay next to him, lifting his arm when Louis scooted over and nudged his bicep so he could rest his head on Harry’s chest.

They lay there in silence just enjoying each other’s company. It was warm and cheerful outside, mimicking the inner feeling of Harry’s heart. He smiled faintly as he remembered a thought he had once had before he had gotten together with Louis. Once upon a time he thought that this was a universe in which he couldn’t have Louis, one in which he’d likely be alone forever, cherishing each and every moment Louis allowed Harry to spend with him. But he had been wrong. This was the universe where Harry was happy, this was the universe where Harry got the boy and got to live happily ever after. He kissed the top of Louis’ head, basking in the warmth of a moment he’d likely forget, a moment that would be lost in the flurry of countless others just like it.


End file.
